There was more, but this is what I remember from my dream:
I was in a house with my family (the one I grew up with). The property’s layout made me think it used to be a gas station. It was at an intersection of two highways, with a large awning extending from the structure toward the intersection, and cars were parked under the awning. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows, along a curved wall, faced this parking lot, shaded by the awning. Inside these giant windows, which spanned the entire long wall, was a sprawling living room, with several seating areas. Behind this large open space were two small dining areas next to an open kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a bar/counter. The kitchen was large as well, but was divided into multiple rooms, with industrial-style deep fryers, ovens, and sinks — with the ceiling-attached pull-down hoses you might see in a restaurant. There were walk-in pantries, freezers, and fridges behind the kitchen. I don’t remember seeing bedrooms, closets, or offices, but I knew they were behind these dining areas and kitchens.
At first, there were a lot of people in the house, filling the living area, with people constantly going in and out of the front doors, and cars coming and going. It was some kind of event, but I can’t remember what, or who was there. Just as the crowd was thinning (and the remaining people would be my immediate family — Dad, Mom, siblings, and I), I complained of hunger, and my Dad said he would order some food to be delivered. He ordered hamburgers, fries, onion rings, tater tots, and other similar items. Then the rest of the crowd finally left.
I remember feeling intense hunger. My siblings and I continued to complain as the food didn’t show up on time. We stood around the kitchen, griping. I suggested cooking food in our own kitchen to stave off our hunger. My Dad said, “Oh, quit complaining.” My brother said, “It’s like we’re sleeping on the street.” Dad scoffed and said, “This is nothing like sleeping on the streets, and none of you have ever slept on the streets, so you wouldn’t know.”
As the dream ended and I was waking up, I said aloud: “It is EXACTLY like sleeping on the streets, and I KNOW, because I HAVE slept on the streets.”
Immediately, as I woke, I wondered why I said that, because neither part of my sentence was true. I’ve never “slept on the streets”, though I did sleep in my car a couple of times in the late 1990s. And even as I said the phrase in my dream, I knew the hunger I was feeling was not the hunger pangs of the truly hungry — because I have fasted several times in the past, for as long as a week, and I do know what those pangs feel like.
While I remained for a few moments in the half-awake state, I tried to apologize to my Dad for responding that way, but the scene was already gone and I couldn’t bring it back.
Some other odd things about the dream, in hindsight:
* The only other person’s face I remember seeing is my brother’s. My Dad and sisters were only voices, though I thought at the time they were in the room. I don’t remember seeing or hearing my Mom at all, though I assumed she was in the house.
* The kitchen, though exposed to the same windows as the living room, was very dark, lit only by the LED readouts on the deep fryers, while the living room was very bright with natural light from the large windows.
* Despite all the cars coming and going from our parking lot, I never saw any cars on the highways that intersected just beyond the parking lot.
* I never sat during this dream, which reminded me that I don’t think I’ve ever been sitting in ANY dream, ever, unless inside a vehicle or classroom. In all the dreams I’ve ever had with scenes inside houses or businesses, I’ve never been sitting. I wonder what this means.